


A Fine Line Between...

by mbe



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Begging, Blow Jobs, Canon-Typical Violence, Face-Fucking, Hate Sex, Heaven's Arena Arc (Hunter X Hunter), Humiliation, Kissing, Light Bondage, M/M, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2020-06-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:42:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24529318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mbe/pseuds/mbe
Summary: A mix of shame and disgust begins to fill Kastro’s body as he comes to terms with what he’s just let Hisoka do to him, not to mention the fact that he enjoyed it.
Relationships: Hisoka/Kastro (Hunter X Hunter)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 31





	A Fine Line Between...

**Author's Note:**

> Long time no post. I have been mostly posting Character/Reader fics on my tumblr (m3v3.tumblr.com) and I made the decision to only post character/character fics on here from now on. 
> 
> Anyway...I find this ship hilarious and it's grown on me over the last few months, and I finally got around to writing something for it, so...here we are.

7 PM, and the hallways are quiet – unusual for Heavens Arena, but Kastro knows why; anyone who’d spent time here knew.

The television in Kastro’s suite blares with lights and an announcer’s too-gleeful, too-loud voice: _“Would you look at this crowd, folks! As you know, we have Hisoka the magician here tonight, who no doubt promises us a spectacular showdown as usual – “_

Kastro frowns and flicks the television off. He’s re-watched all of Hisoka’s matches, on his own time, purely to find a weakness ( _or several_ , he always thinks to himself hopefully) in the man’s fighting style – but Kastro doesn’t want to watch Hisoka live in action if he doesn’t have to.

For a number of reasons.

Kastro shudders and decides to clear his mind and take a shower; he’s spent the day either at the gym or inside, training his Nen, and his body is exhausted and aching. The steam and hot water almost instantly soothe his sore muscles, and Kastro spends an extra long time standing under the shower head, emptying his thoughts and taking a moment to unwind, relax. He has a fight coming up in the next few weeks, and although he’s far from worried, he knows he has to stay focused on his end goal: _defeat that goddamned magician and put him in his place once and for all._ Kastro needs to be at the top of his game in all his matches in order for _that_ to ever happen. _No distractions._

Turning off the water and finally stepping out of the shower, Kastro barely has a towel around him when he hears loud rustling and knocking coming from outside his suite. Curious, he hastily dries himself off, tucks the towel around his waist and walks out to investigate.

Kastro certainly doesn’t expect – but admits to himself that he isn’t surprised – to see his door being flung open and a bloodied, disheveled Hisoka entering the room, a feral, wild-eyed look on his bruised face. The man’s usual outfit, clad in suits and bright colours, has been torn nearly to shreds by his opponent, who is no doubt long dead. Kastro can’t think of anything to say at the sight, but Hisoka grins eagerly when he catches the other man’s eye.

Kastro knows why he’s come. He scowls despite himself, cheeks starting to redden.

“What the hell? Can’t you at least knock first?” Kastro finally exclaims angrily, already rushing to shut the still-wide-open door and keep out anyone unfortunate enough to stumble upon the admittedly odd scene.

“Mmm, I thought you’d left it unlocked just for me,” Hisoka drawls, moving towards Kastro with practiced, confident swagger. “Considering you know how I get after a good match on this floor…”

Kastro clenches his jaw. He doesn’t want to think about it; in fact, he doesn’t want to think about _anything_ involving Hisoka at all, which is a little hard to do with the magician standing in his room. Before Kastro can open his mouth to speak, Hisoka presses himself against the silver-haired man, knocking Kastro backwards onto the bed, and pressing his lips against him.

Kastro tries to shove Hisoka off, to no avail. “I thought we’d agreed a long time ago no kissing,” he manages to grit out, already feeling himself grow hard. Hisoka smirks.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he retorts, in a voice that very much implies the opposite. He slips a hand between their bodies to free Kastro of the towel still around him, exposing the man’s half-erect cock.

“You’re already hard for me,” the magician positively sings. “How _flattering._ ”

Kastro’s cheeks burn deeper in response, and he can’t hope to stifle back the obscene moan that leaves his lips when Hisoka begins to ever so slowly stroke him. The red-haired man chuckles, and no matter how much Kastro wants to tell him to fuck off, only needy whines manage to leave his mouth.

Suddenly, Hisoka stops; Kastro snaps his eyes open ( _when had they closed?_ ) and glares at him. The magician only smiles in reply. “I think I’ve been far too nice these last few… _encounters_ of ours, don’t you think?” he says in that too-sweet voice of his. “Besides…with you, the fun is always over so _soon_.” Hisoka’s hands trail down Kastro’s body, the long nails digging into the bare flesh and making Kastro shiver. The silver-haired man involuntarily bucks his hips upwards, searching for friction, and Hisoka chides him with a disapproving sigh.

“On your knees, hands behind your back.” Hisoka stands up and begins to unfasten his pants, and Kastro scoffs.

“Make me.” He’s still squirming and desperate for friction when he feels Hisoka’s hands on him again in the blink of an eye; he’s on his knees before he knows what’s happening, the carpet of the suite itchy against his bare knees. He doesn’t have a chance to object before the magician frees his cock from his pants and shoves it straight into the other man’s mouth, without further warning.

They don’t do this often – the magician is usually only after a quick, rough fuck and physical release for both parties – and Kastro shudders at how achingly hard he’s gotten from having his face fucked. Hisoka’s hands tug at his long hair, and he can hear the lewd moans leaving him from above. Kastro longs to touch himself and relieve some of the building tension in his groin, but finds that his hands are held in place behind his back; when had that happened? _Hisoka_ …what had he done this time? _Surely it was against their terms to use Nen –_

Just as Kastro is about to try and say something, Hisoka yanks the man’s head back, cock dripping, and grins down at Kastro. The silver-haired man finds his hands will not move from behind him, and he glares up at the magician.

“ _Hisoka_ ,” Kastro growls, as much warning as he can muster in his tone.

Hisoka merely keeps smiling, one hand still holding Kastro’s head in place. “Is there a problem?”

“I never said you could use Nen here.”

“And as I recall, you never said I couldn’t.”

“Let _go_ , Hisoka,” Kastro spits, face flushed at the indignity of it all: he’s on his knees, cock throbbing and leaking precum, the insufferable magician somehow using Nen to bind him in place. _How can he even use Nen at a time like this?_ Kastro gives him as threatening a look as he can manage; Hisoka merely hums.

“Maybe if you ask nicely,” he responds, voice syrupy and mocking, “I’ll even fuck you.”

“ _Asshole_ ,” Kastro grits out, uselessly struggling against his invisible binds. He hangs his head so Hisoka can’t see how desperate he’s getting; _isn’t the magician only after one thing, anyway?_

Kastro then feels Hisoka kneel and his long pointed fingers wrap around his cock to painfully, slowly, begin to stroke him; Kastro can’t help it – he lets out an embarrassingly loud sob, unable to cover his mouth and keep quiet.

“You want me to take care of you?” Hisoka coos, moving in to pepper soft kisses to Kastro’s jaw and neck, tucking his long silver hair from behind his ear. “Make you feel better?”

“Hisoka – “

“All you have to do is ask,” he continues, as though it were obvious all along. Hisoka stops his ministrations, hand still on Kastro’s length, making the latter whine in response. He’s so hard it hurts, and he’s embarrassingly close to tears. Lust overtaking his rational mind, cheeks on fire, he shuts his eyes.

“ _Fine._ Fuck me.”

“Mmm, is that all?” Hisoka suddenly shifts his hands to lift Kastro, yelping in surprise, to his feet and push him back onto the bed, hands all the while behind his back. The magician trails his hands across Kastro’s chest and stomach, intentionally avoiding his cock and slipping a finger inside Kastro’s entrance.

“Ah! – _damn_ …” Kastro wants to hide his face, his shame, but on his back with his arms still pinned, every whine, sigh, look of pleasure, is on display for Hisoka to admire. The shame quickly is replaced with wanton need when Hisoka begins moving his finger, in and out, barely grazing the silver-haired man’s prostate with every thrust. It’s not enough, nowhere near, and –

“I think you can ask more nicely than that…” Hisoka scolds, not increasing the pace of his finger in the slightest. “Tell me what you need, my dearest Kastro.”

He’s sobbing now, his pride replaced with lust and a desperate need to come. He doesn’t even think before the words spill out of his mouth: “ _Please, please, please_ , just _fuck me_! _Please_ , Hisoka, I need you to – “

Kastro is interrupted when the magician hooks his legs over his shoulders and sheaths his cock in the other man’s ass. Something akin to a primal scream tears itself from Kastro’s throat, Hisoka’s cock filling him beyond perfectly, hitting his prostate just right with every thrust. White hot sparks are exploding behind Kastro’s eyes every time the magician slams into him, and he knows he won’t last long - he can’t. Head thrown back in pleasure, Kastro feels Hisoka wrap his hand around his length, thumbing the dripping head, and Kastro sees stars. He arches his back, blinding heat and pleasure crashing over every inch of his body, and he comes with a desperate shout, tears streaming down his face and hot cum hitting his chest with the intensity of his orgasm.

Kastro barely registers Hisoka filling him with his own release, finishing with a soft grunt and a particularly hard thrust, before pulling out and freeing Kastro of his binds. Not that the other man can move much – Kastro is exhausted, the energy drained from every bone in his body. He closes his eyes and rolls onto his side, away from where Hisoka has sat to collect himself, seemingly unaffected.

“It’s always such a pleasure,” the magician comments, breaking the silence and retrieving his discarded clothes. Oddly, he takes a moment to move a sweat-slick strand of Kastro’s hair from his face and tuck it behind his ear. _How romantic,_ Kastro thinks to himself sarcastically, jerking away from the unusually gentle touch.

“Enjoy the rest of your night, dear Kastro. I’m sure we’ll be seeing each other again soon.”

Kastro says nothing in return, and Hisoka apparently has no more to add; only the sound of the door shutting closed alerts him that the magician has left.

A mix of shame and disgust begins to fill Kastro’s body, the wave of post-orgasmic bliss beginning to clear, as he comes to terms with what he’s just let Hisoka do to him, not to mention the fact that he enjoyed it – that he continues to enjoy it. The thought makes an animalistic, primal part of Kastro’s mind almost reconsider the chance to slice the magician’s throat just a few matches from now.

Almost.

**Author's Note:**

> Drop me a line at m3v3.tumblr.com!


End file.
